


lights in the dark

by m3owww



Series: city of darkness, city of lights [2]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Maribat - Fandom, Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Bio!Dad Bruce Month 2020, Gen, Maribat Bio Dad Bruce Wayne Month, Shorts, tie-in with demon's daughter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-08
Updated: 2020-09-26
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:21:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26358637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/m3owww/pseuds/m3owww
Summary: For Bio! Dad Bruce Month Day 8- Driving.For Bio! Dad Bruce Month Day 11- The 'Talk'For Bio! Dad Bruce Month Day 16- Nightmares/DreamsFor Bio! Dad Bruce Month Day 20- Pranks/Dad JokesFor Bio! Dad Bruce Month Day 26- Late Night Discussionsa collection of shorts for bio!Dad Bruce Wayne Month, set in the same universe as 'demon's daughter.'
Relationships: Batfamily Members & Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug
Series: city of darkness, city of lights [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1876867
Comments: 34
Kudos: 315
Collections: Maribat Bio!Dad Bruce Wayne Month





	1. Day 8- Driving

**Author's Note:**

> beta read by [pudgeee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pudgeee/pseuds/pudgeee).

“Why does Richard get to drive?” Damian grouses as he clambers into the minivan with Marinette, Cass, Tim, and Jason.

“Because Jason likes flipping cops off as he goes way over the limit, Tim needs two hands on the wheel and he can’t do that while holding his coffee, and Cass doesn’t want to, Little D.” Richard replies.

Damian huffs. “I don’t see why I cannot drive.”

“Nope. Too young.” Richard says breezily as he starts the engine.

“What about me? I could drive by the time I was six!” Marinette asks, grinning.

“No!” Richard exclaims as Cass snickers in the background. “Just because you’re the older- wait, which one of you is the older twin, anyway?”

“Neither.” Marinette says. “Talia grew us in an artificial womb. It was supposed to be just a boy, but something happened and there ended up being two of us. Ra’s was told that we were both boys, which is why I wasn’t killed before I was even ‘born.’ We were removed from the artificial womb at the same time.”

“...Oookay then.” Jason says slowly. “That’s messed up.”

Damian tuts. “It was efficient. Carrying a baby would put mother out of commission for too long. There were people in the League that did not want the Demon’s Head to have an heir. She would have been vulnerable.”

Marinette decides that she doesn’t like where this conversation is going and decides to employ another tactic. “Richard, can I drive? Please?” She turns on the puppy eyes, and her oldest brother makes a noise that sounds like a cross between a whimper and a sigh.

“I didn’t teach you that so you could use it against me!” He groans. “You know what? Jason, you’re driving. Flip off all the cops you want. You’re practically immune to puppy eyes anyway.”

Jason raises an eyebrow. “You sure, Big Bird?”

“Just switch with me, will you?” Richard says, getting out of the driver’s seat. “At least you’re old enough to drive.”

Ten minutes later, they are hurtling down the highway at 120 miles per hour, screaming and hanging on for dear life as Jason zigzags through the traffic, three police cars on their tail.

Richard  _ really _ should have just let Marinette drive. She was a responsible driver.

Oh well. This was also great fun.


	2. Day 11- The 'Talk'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce decides it's time to give his youngest children the dreaded talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set in between chapters 5 & 6 of demon's daughter, can be read without.

Marinette is working in the sewing room when she hears her father’s footsteps. Light, for someone his size, but heavier than everyone else’s. 

She sets down her work and turns around in her chair. “Hello, Father.”

“Marinette.” Bruce’s face is tighter than normal, as if he is uncomfortable with what he is about to say. “It has recently come to my attention that you and Damian are reaching the age where you will want to start… experimenting with romance.”

_ Oh.  _ Marinette knows where this is going. “Father, are you trying to inform me on the risks of engaging in sexual intercourse without protection? Because I can assure you that it will not be necessary.”

“Marinette, just because you know what sex is doesn’t mean you know how to protect yourself in the heat of the moment. If your partner is male, always-”

“Father.” She interrupts gently. “I do not wish to have sex.”

Bruce frowns. “Well, just because you haven’t found a person to do it with yet doesn’t mean I can’t warn you about it.”

“No, Father. Even if I found a romantic partner, I do not want to do it with them, either. I have been doing some research, and I believe the correct term is ‘asexual.’”

Marinette sees understanding dawn on Bruce’s face, and then relief that he doesn’t have to give this particular child ‘the Talk’. “O-okay then. I’ll go, uh, talk to Damian now.”

Her father really is terrible with emotions, but that’s alright. She knows what he means. Besides, Bruce has more pressing matters to worry about.

Thirty seconds later, she hears a loud crash and a squawk of “ _ WHAT? _ ” followed by the sound of a knife being buried in the wall.

Damian’s sharp edges may have been softened slightly since they arrived at the Manor, but he is still a little pointy.

Okay, very pointy. The Manor’s ancient wallpaper has a new gouge to prove it.


	3. Day 16- Nightmares/Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She dreams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The original day 16 prompt was 'Father-daughter dance.' I replaced it with 'Nightmares/Dreams.'

She dreams of sickly green water, of feeling her soul forcibly sucked back into her body.

Of embracing the darkness, after so many hours of torture and suffering, only to wake up again, still in this cruel world.

She dreams of blood, of the clanging of swords and the slashing of fans, the pain of letting her guard down.

Of trusting, letting people past her walls, and receiving a knife in the back in return.

Beneath every flash of memory, beneath every single story, marred with blood and death, that she can tell, is the green water, its murderous words always being whispered in her ear, always in the back of her mind.

Its voice will never fully recede, she knows. She will never fully be sane.

A weaker person would be in Arkham right now, always restrained, never free, with a mad green light in their glowing eyes.

But despite this, she will never be strong enough.

It is accentuated by countless lashings of a whip across her back, the sound of a gunshot, a cry of pain, then another just for opening her mouth. The message is ingrained into the pale scars that litter her dark skin, every mark telling another gruesome story that she survived.

Or didn’t.

Her scars declare that she will never be strong enough, and because of that, she must be punished with endless pain.

So she dreams of pain and blood and more pain and red everywhere until it all fades into peaceful darkness for what seems like only an instant before she is awake again, in a pit that is green, green, green with its cackles and evil whispers that nobody else can hear.

She dreams of all her worst memories, and then she wakes.

In an ancient manor that she now calls home. The sun is beginning to rise, and it casts pink and gold light through the windows of her room.

She climbs out of the top bunk, careful not to wake her twin, and walks down the hall towards her father’s room, experienced feet muffling every sound of her footsteps.

Father’s door opens silently, and she easily climbs onto his massive bed. He hums sleepily and wraps her in his covers before going back to sleep.

Marinette curls up into her father’s side, bad memories fading to the back of her mind as she closes her eyes again, knowing that she has a father and siblings family who love her.

To them, she is not weak. To them, she will always be enough.

To them, she is family.

She drifts off to sleep with a content smile on her face.


	4. Day 20- Pranks/Dad Jokes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> it's April First.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> set between chapters 5 & 6 of demon's daughter, again.
> 
> sorry about posting it today- I posted it on tumblr yesterday, forgot about the ao3 one, and proceeded to watch Criminal Minds for the rest of the day.
> 
> (I just started it two days ago and I would die for Spencer Reid- is that normal???)

April 1st is always a feared time in the Wayne household.

On March 31st, the Manor’s occupants (sans Alfred, of course- nobody would ever _dare_ to prank Alfred) stay up even later than usual, setting a ridiculous array of booby traps that will hopefully never be set off.

Nobody is safe. That’s the number one rule. Alfred is the exception.

On April 1st, they are almost seven times as paranoid as usual. Marinette carefully unfolds the clothes she picks out for the day, checking for bugs or other devices, before putting it on. She opens a pouch of marbles and rolls them across the floor, checking for any hidden sensors. She steps lightly and cautiously as she heads downstairs for breakfast, and eyes everyone with suspicion as Alfred hands her a plate of pancakes.

The first prank makes itself known when Richard (poor, trusting Richard) charges downstairs with wild eyes, still shirtless and hair a mess.

“WHO REPLACED MY TOOTHPASTE WITH MAYONNAISE?”

Obviously, nobody owns up to it. They aren’t that stupid. Marinette notices Jason is acting a tad more suspicious than usual, and says nothing.

Father comes downstairs, bleary-eyed, and accepts his usual cup of black coffee from Alfred. Except, it isn’t black, because everyone else saw Alfred add a copious amount of hot sauce to it.

He sips from the mug, and his right eye twitches, just the tiniest bit. An untrained eye would not have caught it. Then, he hums and proceeds to down the rest of the mug in one gulp.

Sometimes, Marinette wonders if Father is actually only human.

When she and Damian head to the Cave for training, they find that the Robin and Starling suits have been coated in a very thick, very conspicuous layer of violently pink glitter, as have all the other suits.

Obviously, the culprit covered their own suit with glitter as well as to not arouse suspicion, but Richard forgot one thing- he is the only member of the household who would choose wearing glitter on his suit over a painful death.

In retaliation, Damian and Marinette take blades to the pants portion of all his Nightwing suits and paint them a bright yellow, stamping ‘KICK ME’ on the back in blue. (They keep one spare suit normal. Suits without pants are not adequate for protection out in the field, and they do not wish for Richard to die because of a prank.)

At precisely noon, all the audio systems in the house start blasting ‘Toxic’ by Britney Spears. That isn’t terrible by itself.

What’s terrible is that once the song ends, it starts again. And again. And again. All attempts to hack into the sound system are rewarded with a 10% increase in volume. Any attempts to leave the Manor prove fruitless, as the Cave zeta tubes are down and the security system has been hacked, rendering the exterior doors and all windows useless.

Attempts to contact others for outside help are also useless, as all signals are blocked. The emergency codes are suspected to still work (nobody is that stupid), but Alfred refuses to let them use the override codes, as he insists that it is not an emergency.

Alfred produces earplugs from thin air and is unaffected by the incident. Tim has (conveniently) just gone to Titans Tower to train.

Finally, at 3 pm, a full three hours after ‘Toxic’ first started playing, it stops, and everyone breathes collective sighs of relief.

When Tim returns home from Titans Tower, there is a Roomba armed with seven knives waiting for him in his room, programmed specifically to follow him around.

The library door is covered in saran wrap. Jason tries to enter to get a book and bounces off, ricocheting into the wall across the hallway.

Marinette finds that all her pen cartridges have been replaced with empty ones, and swears revenge on whoever could be so cruel.

Damian finds smiley face stickers (the _audacity_ ) plastered over all his katanas. Richard screams at a massive spider on his bed that turns out to be a hologram from the newest prototype being developed at W.E. The scream is recorded, and tiny speakers are found playing the recording at random times in the air vents afterwards.

Father remains mostly unaffected, because nothing seems to get past his attention. Except for Cass, it seems.

Because when they finally head out for patrol (Everyone in spares, because _glitter._ Richard was presented with the only spare that was not bright yellow), the Batmobile is neon pink, through and through.

The exterior, windows, tires, and upholstery have all been coated in a layer of neon pink paint. The best part? Father didn’t expect it. At all.

Everyone attempts to stifle their giggles behind their hands as Father just stares at his multi-million-dollar vehicle, once darker than the shadows themselves, now so conspicuous that anyone who wasn’t fully blind in a three-mile radius could see it.

“Which one of you did this?” He growls, and Marinette stops for a moment, considering.

Out of all the pranks today, none of them fit Cass’ style- except this one. She would save her energy for the largest and most magnificent prank of them all.

Her siblings seem to come to the same conclusion, because they all point to Cass, who just blinks innocently, brown eyes wide.

“You’re all lying. Which one of the five of you did this?” Father says, and she tilts her head.

“Do you not believe us when we say it was Cass, Father?” Marinette asks.

“Of course not!” Father exclaims (as much as one who speaks with almost no emotion can exclaim, anyway). “Cass is a sweet, innocent human being who would never do this!”

Cass raises her hand, eyes sparkling with mischief. “It was me.”

Cass never lies. Father knows this.

Luckily, Alfred manages to snap a picture of Father’s face so it can be immortalized forever.


	5. Day 26- Late Night Discussions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> dreams lead to a conversation on a roof.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> set sometime in between chapters 11 and 12 of demon's daughter.

Being back in Gotham, while it is nice, brings back the old memories with it. And with the memories, come nightmares.

When Marinette flies awake two hours after she closed her eyes in a guest room in her own home, she doesn’t bother trying to go back to sleep. Her efforts would be fruitless, anyway.

She gets out of bed, opens her window, and climbs up to the roof.

It is a cool night, and she is only in cotton pajamas, but she has been trained to withstand the most extreme of temperatures. She will be fine.

A cold wind blows past, her dark hair rippling with it as she stares up at the clouded Gotham sky, the stars obscured by smog.

Marinette closes her eyes and inhales deeply, trying to erase the memories flashing behind her eyes.

Her first trainer, with a sword, charging towards her.

Shiva standing coldly over her as she died the first time.

Talia, holding a cat-of-nine-tails with a cruel smile, telling her with every strike that it was for her own good.

Dying alone and in pain, chained to a stone wall.

Heretic’s cruel smile as he ran Damian-

 _No._ She shakes her head. _Don’t think about that._ Anything but that.

A quiet sound coming from the side catches her attention, and she looks over to see Cass, easily pulling herself up onto the roof to come sit next to her.

If Cass didn’t want Marinette to hear her, she could have easily snuck up on her. Instead, she chose to make enough noise so she would hear.

She gives her sister the tiniest of smiles. “Hello, _jiejie._ ”

Cass produces a blanket from somewhere and drapes it over both their shoulders. “Cold.” She says simply.

She didn’t realize how cold she was until the extra layer of warmth was given to her. Marinette shifts closer to the other girl, the edges of the blanket curling up into her fists.

They stare at the night sky for a bit without saying anything. Then, Marinette speaks.

“Why do we do this?”

Cass just looks at her, brown eyes quizzical.

“Why do we go out every night and try to be heroes? Crime is never going to stop. Villains are never going to stop. Why do we don costumes and draw weapons to go fight every single night, knowing that we might not come back?” Marinette asks, feeling a burning in her eyes. She stares at the sky, as if it will bring the stars out from behind the clouds. “Why do we do it?”

Cass reaches over and puts a single finger over her heart. “We protect because they cannot. We do it so they don’t have to.”

“But why does it have to be us?” She asks, even though she already knows the answer.

“Who else would it be?” Her sister responds, and it is true.

There is nobody more qualified to be vigilantes than the Waynes. Father travelled the world for years, learning to fight from the masters. Richard holds the world record for the most rotations turned in a somersault. Tim is a certified genius. Nobody reads body language better than Cass. She, Jason, Cass, and Damian were all trained by the League of Assassins. Even Alfred wasn’t your average butler.

They were the only people standing between Gotham’s people and the ones who wanted to hurt others. Every night, they put on uniforms and went out to fight, ready to lay down their lives, so that others wouldn’t have to. Because they had the greatest chance of surviving. The greatest chance of winning.

But just because they have the greatest chance doesn’t mean that there aren’t losses.

Marinette thinks back to the now unoccupied room in the Manor with a bunk bed and the belongings of two people. The katanas that are still on their racks in the Cave. The spare red, yellow, green, and black costumes in a locker and all over the house.

“I just wish that he was still here.” She says, resting her head on Cass’ shoulder as a single tear trails down her cheek. “Is that too much to ask?”

Cass says nothing, instead reaching out a hand to comb through her hair. Her fingers sort through the locks that have now reached Marinette’s shoulders, gently untangling them.

The sun slowly rises over the trees, and when the first robins start to sing, the two sisters climb down from the roof and go back inside.

**Author's Note:**

> find me on [tumblr!](https://m3owww.tumblr.com/)


End file.
